


Light at the End of the World

by Feanoriel



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gen, Gil-galad is the son of Orodreth, Tolkien Secret Santa 2017, i hope you enjoy!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 15:24:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feanoriel/pseuds/Feanoriel
Summary: The story of Celebrìan in Valinor.





	Light at the End of the World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoseoftheBrightSea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseoftheBrightSea/gifts).



> Two things:  
> 1\. this is a piece written for the Tolkien Secret Santa 2017. There's some angst, and some mentions of violence, but it's only Canon Typical Violence, nothing graphic. But the important thing is that everybody get an happy ending, because hey, it's Christmas! :D  
> 2\. English isn't my mother tongue, so I fear that it could be some mistakes. I must thank **Halja** for beta-reading this and help me with this fic. Very thanks to you, my dear!
> 
> Enjoy!

_This is for long-forgotten_  
Light at the end of the world  
Horizon crying  
The tears he left behind long ago  
The albatross is flying  
Making him daydream  
The time before he became  
One of the world`s unseen  
Princess in the tower  
Children in the fields  
Life gave him it all:  
An island of the universe  
Now his love`s a memory  
A ghost in the fog  
He sets the sails one last time  
Saying farewell to the world  
Anchor to the water  
Seabed far below  
Grass still in his feet  
And a smile beneath his brow  
(Nightwish- The Islander)

 

There was a salty taste on Celebrìan’s lips, when she licked them. She felt the wind on her face, on her hair, and she heard the cry of the seagulls that followed the ship. She couldn’t help but sigh. 

She had learned to love the sea a long time ago, since the time when she was nothing more that a little girl, greedy for her mother’s tales. She had always known that the sea was her friend, it spoke to her since she saw it for the first time, quietly murmuring to her in her wanderings on the shores of Edhellond, following her in her dreams. Celebrìan had always known that she belonged to the sea, that her destiny was to sail over it, even before Gil-galad fell and the Twilight of the Elves came. 

But everything was very different right now. It was all so _painful_ , now. Leaving Elrond, her children, her parents, everybody she ever loved, was such a difficult decision. She would have never left them, if it wasn’t necessary. 

_Not even if her own life had become so painful, so full of horror and despair where once there was joy and happiness… She found little comfort in the light of the sun and in the shining of the stars, in Bruinen’s crystal-clear waters, in the sounds of the little birds all around Imladris, all things that she once loved, but that now she couldn’t stand, so full of fear and despair she felt. The night wasn’t full of joy and sweetness anymore, but only of terror and pain, because she remembered all too well the darkness of the Orcs’ cave, where she knew what real pain was, pain like she had never felt in her life. Those moments when she desired Mandos’s cold embrace more than anything she had ever desired in her life ..._

She _had_ to do it. She knew that she was nothing more than a wreck, a pale shadow of the one who she once was. She felt like one of the Enemy’s living dead, deprived of all her life, all her strength, an empty shell led only by fright, hate and despair. Everything was despair, everything reminded her that the old Celebrian died in the Orcs’ cave, and that she never came back … 

Celebrìan couldn’t stand this. She couldn’t stand the pain on Elrond’s fair face, the worried way he touched her, as if he feared hurting her, the idea that _she_ was hurting him, because she knew all too well that she couldn’t be healed anymore. Elrond’s skills were able to heal her body, sure, but even her wise, capable, beloved husband could do nothing for her tormented soul. Celebrìan feared that one day the pain might become too hard for her to bear, and drive her suffering _fëa_ to Mandos’ Halls. She couldn’t allow that, she didn’t want her husband and her children to endure her death, after so many troubles. 

So, her only choice she had was sailing, leaving those lands that couldn’t speak to her heart anymore, in hope that the power of the Undying Land could heal her soul. But it wasn’t easy. The love of her heart belonged there, with her beautiful children, with her dear Elrond, with her parents. She already missed them, as she knew they would miss her.

She remembered her last day in Middle-earth, their farewell on the shores of the Gray Havens. She could almost feel the sweet kiss Elrond bid her farewell with, and the salty taste of his tears on his lips, or the heat of her children’s bodies against her own, in that last, desperate embrace. She could almost see her parents, bright as torches against the sunset, but her father was in tears, and even her mother’s steady, quiet face couldn’t hide the melancholy in her eyes. 

-Farewell, my daughter- Galadriel whispered to her, for the last time. - I hope you can find some joy in the Undying Lands. My family will take care of you. 

Celebrìan remembered those words. Celebrìan repeated those words to herself, when she woke up screaming because of the nightmares that still haunted her, alone in her cabin, or when the nostalgia for Elrond, for her beautiful children, became unbearable. The power of the Undying Lands could heal her, and she would soon be reunited with her family. 

Celebrìan sighed. Sometimes, it seemed to her that she could see Elrond in everything she saw: in the night sky that bore his same name, in the cry of the seagulls, in the salty taste that the sea left on her lips, in the hot kiss of the sun on her skin. Things that reminded her of those past days, almost an age ago, when she and Elrond walked on the shores of Edhellond, still unaware of their feelings for each other … 

Celebrìan closed her eyelids for a moment, lost in the memory of the past. Elrond, who was always so sweet and gallant towards her, who let her go without thinking twice about it, only because he hoped to see her happy once again, even if his heart was bleeding, who always treated her with the utmost respect, who loved her more than anything … she remembered his soft caresses between her thighs, the warm touch of his lips on her skin, his fingers entwined in her hair, and for a moment she shivered. Oh, she would miss _that_ so much … 

She shook her head. She had nothing but hope. Hope that she would be healed in Valinor, that her mother’s relatives would welcome her, that she would be reunited with her family, once the war against Sauron was over. _If_ the war against Sauron would ever be over, and if her family survived… 

_No_ , she told herself. _They will live. They will survive. I cannot believe otherwise_.

She didn’t want to indulge in such sad thoughts. The sailors told her that the greatest part of the journey was over, and soon they would finally reach the white shores of Valinor. No darkness would endure in this land, she thought, and she wanted to leave her despair, her pain, everything that still made her scream and cry in the night behind. 

Here, there was place only for _hope_.

 

Alqualondë was _magnificent_. It was even better than her mother’s tales: palaces of white marble that almost shined under the rays of the sun, lush pensile gardens full of any kind of flower, tall statues carved in alabaster adorning the balconies of the houses, mosaics of all colours decorating the walls of the city. Everything had an astonishing beauty to it, a beauty even the elven places she had seen in Endor, the golden wood of Lórien, the fiery citadel of Ost-in-Edhil, or Gil-galad’s palace in Lindon, couldn’t rival. Not even Imladris, she reluctantly had to admit, even if her heart lied there. 

So was the land of her ancestors, the land where her mother was born and lived before she came to Middle-earth. Celebrìan wasn’t uncertain, when she disembarked, refusing the help of the sailors that offered her their hands. She had waited for a long time to come here.  
But when she finally looked upon the crowd that had come on the dock to welcome the new arrivals, she couldn’t help but feel a little lost. There were no familiar faces among the crowd, nobody she could know. 

For a moment, Celebrìan bit her lower lip, uncertain. She had vaguely hoped that her mother’s family would welcome her in this new world, or at least that she might find some of the elves who once lived in Imladris, and took the decision of passing across the sea a long time before her … 

-Lady Celebrìan?-asked a voice she had never heard before. -You’re lady Celebrìan, am I right?

She searched for the voice through the crowd, which parted to let two people, who were doubtlessly coming for her pass.

-Yes- she said softly, looking at them.- Yes, it’s me.

She had never seen the two people who were now looking at her before, but it wasn’t that difficult to guess who they were. The man was tall and noble, with long golden hair that fell on his shoulders and deep gray eyes, a silver crown, adorned with diamonds, surrounding his forehead. The woman was as beautiful as him, but wore no crown, except for her long, thick, silvery hair, that fell on her back like a shining mantle. Her eyes were the same blue as the deep sea that lapped at Alqualondë, and her smile was as radiant as the pair of pearl earrings she wore.

Celebrìan could easily find her mother’s features on their faces. The man had the same golden hair and jawline as her mother, the woman had the same blue-sea eyes and the same delicate mouth. 

-My lords?- she asked, feeling a smile rise on her mouth.- My lord Arafinwë and my lady Eärwen?

-Yes- murmured the King of the Noldor, taking her hands.- Call me grandpa, please. We long waited for your coming, my dear.

Celebrìan couldn’t help but smile. She felt like she was about to cry: not out of despair or pain, as she did too many times in the past, but out of simple joy and wonder. She took a step towards them and embraced the grandparents she had never met before, without even fighting the tears that came at her eyes.

-Oh, sweetie- Celebrìan heard the princess of Alqualondë murmuring in her ear.- You’re home, now. Everything is fine. We are here for you, now. 

 

But even in Tirion, she could hardly find the peace she looked for.  
Celebrìan was obviously very glad to see the city where her forefather Arafinwë was born, where her mother and her siblings once played when they were little, and Tirion was so beautiful, full of white marble and lush gardens and crystal fountains, but even here, the shadow of her grief still haunted her.  
As Galadriel had told her, her family was kind to her, and Celebrìan felt her heart warm a little thanks to all their cares and attentions, and because she could finally meet all the people she knew from her mother’s tales: her uncle Finrod, so brave and kind, strong Angrod with his sharp glance, who was nevertheless so understanding towards her, fair Amarië, now wife to Finrod, and their little children, even the sweet Finduilas and Orodreth, Gil-galad’s father, the last King of the Noldor --- not Aegnor. They spoke little of Aegnor and of his doom, of how he would remain in Mandos’ Halls until the very end of Arda, for Andreth’s sake. 

But even so, the shadow never left her.

-You must go to the Gardens of Lórien- once Eärwen told her sweetly. - I see you’re troubled, my dear, and I cannot stand the idea of seeing you suffer. Irmo will find a way to heal your soul, I know, as he found a way for all the ones that went through the Halls of Mandos, and that dwell now in this house. 

Celebrìan looked her grandmother, her blue-sea eyes full of worry for her. Celebrìan told her that the Orcs tortured her, back in the Middle-earth - Eärwen didn’t ask her any more, and Celebrìan was grateful to her for this, because she knew that she wouldn’t be able to speak of that, and maybe she would never be- I hope so - she replied. - I … you’re so kind to me, all of you. I’m sorry for causing you such trouble.

-That’s not what matters- Eärwen shook her head.- The only thing that matters is your happiness and your health. If you need to be healed, we will do everything to allow you to be. Nothing else matters, and don’t be afraid: we will be glad to welcome you once again, when you will finally be happy and sound. The doors of our house will always be open for you, my dear.

Celebrìan closed her eyes a little. Her grandmother was right. She longed to be healed, and nothing else, and if only Irmo could heal her soul, she had to go to the Gardens of Lórien, and ask for his help. She had heard great things of the power of Irmo and Estë: who else could heal her, and chase the shadow from her heart?

-I’ll go to the Gardens- she finally said.- But I promise that one day I will come back here, dear grandma. I guess that my business here still isn’t finished.

She couldn’t help but throw a gaze out of the window. She was so sure she caught a glance of red hair shining in light of the sun, but when she looked a second time, the vision had already vanished, swift as it came. 

**

The Gardens of Lórien were beautiful, Celebrìan thought. She let herself slide on the green grass, sighing quietly. There was peace, in those gardens, peace and silence and quiet, and everything that she had needed from the very moment she had decided to sail, a long time ago in Middle-earth. Lórien was full of shady trees and of tiny, shining white flowers that resembled the stars in the dark sky. Celebrìan could hear the nightingales that sang among the branches in the wood, and smell the scent of the flowers all around her, and she closed her eyes for a moment. There was peace, here, yes, and for a moment she let her thoughts wander, musing over how it would be to fall asleep right now, in a deep sleep without any dreams, simply resting here, feeling no more worries, only a sweet oblivion, like Míriel Þerindë once did in those same gardens … 

But she knew that it wouldn’t happen. She didn’t come to the Gardens of Lórien for the same purpose as Míriel, and different would be her choice. She shook her head, letting her silver hair flow on her back, as she let her gaze wander upon the wood that surrounded her.

She had no idea of how much time had passed, from the moment she had entered into the Gardens of Lórien. In the realm of Irmo and Estë, time seemed to stop, as life’s troubles ended when anyone crossed the gates of the Gardens. Celebrìan still remembered the gaze that her uncle Finrod had shot towards her, when he had accompanied her here.

-They will heal you, I promise- he had told her.- I, too, took … time … before being definitively healed. Reincarnating in a new body is never simple, and I remember how my new flesh ached and how the light burned my eyes and the air burned my lungs, after the time I had spent in the Waiting Halls, as if my _fëa_ rejected my new body. And then, that pain was even easier to bear than the grief I felt over what happened in Endor, for all the loved ones that I lost. But I promise that you will _heal_ : if they were able to heal me, they will find a way to help you, my dear.

Celebrìan hoped so. Irmo and Estë were kind with her, patient and understanding towards her, who had never seen a Vala in all her life, and was a little shocked to see the magnificence and the power of the Lord of Visions and the Gentle Lady. They were tall, tall as the greatest tree she had seen in Lórien in Middle-earth, but they took the shapes of two elves to speak with her.

-How long am I going to stay here?- Celebrìan remembered asking them. 

-As long as you need to heal lady Celebrìan- Irmo replied, quietly. A nightingale perched on his shoulder, and sang. 

-And how long I will need for this?- she persisted.

-It depends only on you, my lady- Irmo’s voice was sweet and low, like the rustling of the branches of the trees, or the pouring of a little stream. - I’ve seen a lot of people healing in so many different ways. Some people took centuries to be healed, others took years, others even took a few months. Some people suffered from too many troubles to find peace easily, others were able to find their own way. Some people needed my help, others needed it less, or didn’t need it at all. There’s no _right_ way to heal, my lady, only different ways for different people. 

-I don’t want to stay here for centuries- whispered Celebrìan.

-So you will not- answered Irmo, quietly, and he spoke no more.

Few days passed, or so it seemed, at least. Time was strange, in the Gardens of Lórien. But one morning, it happened that Estë came to her, a gentle smile on her radiant face, her long gray mantle fluttering in the wind. 

-Lady Celebrìan- Estë greeted her.- There’s a friend of yours, here, and he will be glad to see you.

-A friend?- Celebrìan was surprised. She didn’t know if she had any friends in the Gardens of Lórien. She guessed he would be a friend of hers that she knew in Imladris, during her long years as the Lady of the Vale, but when finally she could see the stranger in full light, she proved to be wrong.

The man who stood before her wore a long, grey tunic, with no ornaments. His dark golden hair was tied in a long braid that fell on his back, his grey eyes were keen and deep, when they settled on her.

Celebrìan immediately stood:- My king … -she whispered, making a little curtsey. 

-No, please. Don’t bow before me. I’m King of nothing, now- Gil-galad’s lips opened in a little, kind smile.- Please, cousin. I don’t want any formality between us. 

-I … I understand.- Celebrìan nodded her head a little. She was shocked, to tell the truth. It seemed almost an eternity had passed, since Elrond came back from Mordor with the ashes of Gil-galad and his eyes full of grief. The minstrels of Middle-earth still sang of the Last King of the Noldor, who fell at the foot of Barad-dûr while fighting against Sauron himself, and some of their songs were written by Elrond himself. ‘It’s the least I can do to keep his memory living in people’s hearts’, Elrond once told her. ‘He sacrificed himself for us all’. Celebrìan knew all too well how deep Elrond’s pain was. Gil-galad was one of his closest friends, maybe the closest thing to a brother he had, after Elros’ death. 

For a moment, her heart ached at the thought of Elrond. They’d to suffered so many pains through the centuries: would they be able to find happiness once again? Would they one day live together in Valinor, without any care?

-I didn’t know you were here- Celebrìan continued, in a soft voice. Gil-galad didn’t seem to have changed since the last time she saw him, but when she gazed at him more carefully, she could see things that she hadn’t noticed at first glance. Gil-galad’s eyes were calm, quiet, almost deprived of the fire that dwelled in them in Middle-earth, and no more scars marked his skin. - I’ve always thought you were in Tirion, even if I’ve never seen you there, but I thought that surely you had your reasons. I had no idea I could find you here.- she would have been glad to see him in Tirion, of course, but they had never been that close: they surely felt a deep respect for each other, but they had never shared the same friendship that there once was between Elrond and Gil-galad. She was a little sorry that he had never came to visit her, but she couldn’t blame him for that. 

Gil-galad smiled a little:- I understand. I, too, felt a little uncertain when I heard you came here: I guessed you must have your reasons to be here- he took a deep breath.- I’ve heard you and Elrond got married, at last. 

-Yes- Celebrìan couldn’t help but smile. Her wedding to Elrond had been one of the happiest day of her life.- We did. And we had to thank you for that. It’s only because of you that we could live happily for such a long time, and raise our children in a peaceful time. Elrond will never forget what you did for us, and so will I.

Gil-galad’s smile was a little sad, now:- I know. It was my … only consolation, when I was in Mandos’ Halls. Vairë the Weaver was kind to me, and let me know about your marriage. I couldn’t eradicate the Shadow from Middle-earth, but at least I could offer some peaceful centuries to my people, and that’s the only thing that matters.

-It wasn’t your fault- Celebrìan whispered. She feared she may have offended him. - It wasn’t your fault, if the Ring wasn’t destroyed.- Men were of the same kin as Elrond’s ancestors, the same kin as Elros, whom she had never met, but in that moment she couldn’t help but feel a blind rage towards them. It was Men’s fault, if Gil-galad’s sacrifice was useless, if Sauron returned, and - _for a moment, a stabbing pain pierced her shoulder, exactly in the same spot where the poisoned weapon of the Orcs had wounded her_ \- if the Orcs returned in the Misty Mountains and took her captive. -I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you … 

She would have been so very glad, if her children had known Gil-galad. Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen were raised on the tales of Gil-galad, the great elven-king, the warlord with his shining spear, who once fought side by side with their father … 

-No, no- Gil-galad raised a hand.- I’m fine, dear cousin. - he offered her his arm.- Do you feel like taking a walk? I missed familiar faces, and I’m very glad to see you, even if I fear the circumstances aren’t the happiest ones. But this is a cruel world, sadly.

-I will be very glad to- she replied, taking the arm he offered. She noticed that Estë had disappeared, silent as usual.- And I fear you are right. I’d always thought I would be in Valinor with my family, with Elrond and my children, that we would see the magnificence of Taniquetil together, or walk together on the shores of Alqualondë. But fate can be so cruel sometimes- she sighed.

-That’s what I feared- Gil-galad gently touched her hand.- I cannot imagine anything that could drive you and Elrond apart, dear cousin. 

-I, too, couldn’t, once- Celebrìan’s voice was low, now, she felt the pain growing in her chest, but she kept talking. Maybe it was the power of the Gardens, but now she seemed more comfortable with the idea of speaking about her suffering. She knew he would understand, and maybe talking would be good for her, after her long journey alone, without anybody who could hear her confessions.- But the Shadow fell on us. The Sauron’s Orcs took me captive, and … and … - her voice, so sure just a moment before, broke. She closed her eyes, for a moment, trying to fight the tears. She had shared her pain with Elrond, but those moments seemed so far, now, and Elrond wasn’t with her anymore. She had no voice to describe what had happened to her in the dark caves under the mountains.

But she felt Gil-galad’s warm hand on her shoulder, and after a moment of hesitation, he gently embraced her. It was what she needed in that moment: she let herself soba little, against his chest, while her cousin whispered soft words of comfort to her. Gil-galad’s voice was kind and sweet like her father’s, and Celebrìan felt grateful for that.  
Gil-galad must have known what orcs did to women, so there was no need to speak between them. He gently held her for some moments, until she regained her composure. 

-I’m sorry- she said, shaking her head. - Sometimes … sometimes the pain is too much to bear. 

-I know- Gil-galad’s smile was kind, but sad at the same time.- Don’t blame yourself for this. We are here to heal, and there’s no shame in this. Everybody here knows what suffering means, and nobody could say anything against it. 

-I’m glad for this- Celebrìan carefully placed her hand on his arm. She blamed herself too much, when she was still in Middle-earth: for not being strong enough to bear the Orcs’ poison, for not being able to be happy again, for causing so much trouble to Elrond and her family. Elrond was always understanding towards her, full of love and of understanding despite his pain, and that made her feel even worse, because she knew all too well that she was the cause of his suffering. But Gil-galad’s gentle words made warmed her heart a little. _There’s always hope_ , Celebrìan thought, remembering what her mother had whispered to her shortly before she sailed. -I know that you, too,have suffered a lot, and I feel sorry for you, my dear cousin. How are you … how are you, now?

Celebrìan feared being too rude, after all, the reason why Gil-galad was still in the Gardens of Lórien wasn’t any of her business, even if a long time had passed since his death. Celebrìan remembered Irmo’s word, on how some people took more time to heal. She considered this: once in Middle-earth, shortly after her rescue, she had felt so weak, so useless, so pathetic for not being able to heal, but maybe Gil-galad didn’t feel any shame for that. 

-It’s … difficult.- Gil-galad shook his head.- I’m surely better than I was when I first got out of Mandos’ Halls… but I’m not the one that I once was anymore, I fear. I may be Gil-galad, but I’m not the Scion of the Kings anymore.

-For me, Gil-galad is good enough- she gave him a little smile.- I … I’m glad that you are here. My mother’s family was kind to me, but I haven’t known them for a long time, and I’m happy to find a familiar face here.

-So am I- he whispered, softly.- I should have come sooner, I know. But a part of me is … scared, I must admit. 

-Why?- Celebrìan looked at him. Gil-galad’s gray, calm eyes were staring absently into the void, as if they were looking at something she couldn’t see.- If you feared that I could blame you for anything… No, I cannot. You don’t blame me for my pain and for leaving my family behind me, how I could blame you?

-It’s … complicated- Gil-galad took a deep breath.- But yes. I know that I can trust you, now, and I blame myself for doubting you. But … It wasn’t easy, cousin. It’s never been easy to accept what Mandos told me, once when I was in his Halls, and even now I cannot properly forgive myself for this. Maybe it’s because of this that I spent so much time in these Gardens.

Gil-galad took a little pause, but Celebrìan didn’t wait a long time before she heard him speak again:- I may seem to be talking in riddles, to you. I know you were surprised to find me here, but I stayed in Mandos’ Halls for centuries. Still, I feel like I’m not ready for the outside world, even if I’m getting more and more comfortable in my new body.

Celebrìan watched him. She was able to hide her own concern: she had no desire to hurt him. But these news weren’t what she expected. She knew that her uncle Finrod had returned after a short time from Mandos, because he had sacrificed himself for Beren’s sake, but she also heard other whispers, in Tirion, whispers of how the noble Fingolfin took a long time, before the Valar gave him the possibility to return, because of his pride and his fierceness, and so it was for Fingon his son, the most valiant of the Noldor, who killed the mariners at Alqualondë for Maedhros’ sake. And as for the Fëanorians … Celebrìan didn’t hear any whispers about them, because little was spoken about the First House of the Noldor in Arafinwë’s home, but she doubted that Námo would have been more indulgent towards them. But the First Age was a cruel age of darkness and wrath, and she’d always believed things would be different for Gil-galad, who was an hero to her, to Elrond, and to their children, who grew up hearing the tales about the Last High King of the Noldor. How could he have stayed in Mandos’ Halls for _centuries_ ? Celebrìan remembered how he had sacrificed himself to give his lieutenants the chance to destroy the Ring, and finally free the Middle-earth from Sauron’s shadow. If she didn’t fear of sounding blaspheme, she would have thought the Valar had become ungrateful, or even crueler, in these times. 

But even if she was able to hide her emotions, Gil-galad was somehow able to understand her feelings, because he said, without letting his small, sad smile fade away from his face:- Oh, yes, I understand your concern. That was my reaction, too, when Mandos told me that, when my bare fëa stood before his throne. 

-But you …- Celebrìan shook her head.-Elrond and I will never forgot your sacrifice. You’re a hero, Gil-galad. The singers still sing about your achievements. If it wasn’t for you, Sauron’s power would never have faded from Middle-earth for such a long time. Why? I cannot understand this.

-Neither could I- Gil-galad’s eyes were staring into the void, once more, and Celebrìan gently squeezed his hand.- I, too, was sure, oh so sure, that I would remain only for a short time in Mandos’ Halls … Oh, I was so arrogant, and so blind. How I could think I could take the judgement of the Valar for granted?

-But you _sacrificed_ yourself for your people!

-Yes, I did.. But see, it wasn’t about what I _did_ , but rather about what I _didn’t_. I didn’t destroy the Three Rings, even when I had the occasion.

-Neither my mother nor Celebrimbor did- Celebrìan whispered softly. She knew Gil-galad was sincere, and she trust him blindly, but had it been anybody else telling her those things, she surely would not have been able to believe what she heard.

-Aye, I know. It’s why she’s still under the Valar’s Ban, until she will prove to be worthy, and then finally she will sail here, into the Undying Lands. So they told me. And as for Celebrimbor … - he shook his head.- His punishment wasn’t that different from mine. He and I had a lot of time to speak, both in Mandos’ Halls and here. But you cannot find him here: he’s always been a boisterous spirit, and he couldn’t stand the peace of the Gardens for too long.- he looked at her. - He isn’t yet free from his troubles, but he preferred to return to his family rather than remain here, and Irmo couldn’t do nothing but  
indulge him.

-You aren’t either - Celebrìan softly spoke. For a moment, her mind returned to Tirion, where Gil-galad’s family was waiting for him: his father and his sister, too, had returned from Mandos, even if it had happened a long time before the death of Gil-galad himself.

-No- Gil-galad took a deep breath.- No, it’s true. I don’t feel … ready for this. My mother and my sister come here, sometimes, and once even my father did, but I … I spent so many times blaming my father for what happened in Nargothrond, for how he let the Fëanorians usurp his throne, for how he let the curse of the Mormegil destroy his kingdom, and I always _swore_ to myself that I would be a better king than he was, that I would never make his same mistakes, and … Aye, I never make _his_ mistakes, but I didn’t leave Mandos for a long time for _my_ mistakes.- he laughed for a moment, a harsh laugh without any joy.

-I feel so sorry for you- Celebrìan’s heart was heavy. She felt useless for a moment: she wasn’t able to comfort herself, how could she comfort him?- But I still believe that you’re a hero, Rings or not. Your actions proved so, and your achievements talk for you. The Three Rings may have been touched by Sauron’s hand, but they proved to be helpful to us. It was the power of Vilya that made Imladris flourish, and so did the power of Nenya for my mother’s realm. I don’t think it was an unforgivable mistake. 

-It wasn’t, or we wouldn’t be able to talk here, right now- Gil-galad’s smile returned.- But the Judge of the Valar is more merciful than this, or he wouldn’t have been able to forgive even my … _other mistake_ …which was definitely worse than this one.

-What are you talking about?- Celebrìan couldn’t believe that anything could cause any more trouble. 

Gil-galad paused for a minute, but when he talked, a mere whisper came from his lips, so low that Celebrìan could barely hear it. 

- _Númenor_ \- she heard, and she couldn’t believe it.

-But … _why_?- she shook her head.- This is … oh, I fear I might sound blaspheme, but this is … absurd. How can you blame yourself for _Men_ ’s mistakes? 

-Not for Men’s mistakes- Gil-galad’s hand rested under his chin.- But they were my strongest allies, blood of Elros’ blood, and I searched for their help through the centuries in the war against Sauron, until the Shadow fell on them, and I never looked again at the Land of the Gift. I knew all too well that, at some point, it would be useless to seek for an alliance with them, for they were becoming too proud and too resentful towards our people. The Valar said I didn’t do _anything_ , even if I knew what they were doing in Middle-earth.

-You always did what was best for our people- Celebrìan whispered. She, too, remembered those days. Gil-galad didn’t send any more messengers among the Númenóreans, but spies that could tell him what happened in the realm of the Kings of Men, but he was always careful, and so suspicious, because their old allies had turned proud and arrogant. 

-Aye, I always did what was best- he took a deep breath.- I took difficult decisions. Everybody took difficult decisions, but for a King, those are always even more difficult. The Númenóreans were expanding their dominion, and they proved to be able to conquer lands with fire and steel, and of taking men like them as slaves … how could they do it, if they had once thought of making war against _us_? If they had decided that our immortality insulted them, and we had to watch the Númenórean army coming for _us_? Aye, we could have fought until our last breath, but … - Gil-galad clamped his fist.- Even Sauron’s army couldn’t compete with the power of Ar-Pharazôn’s army. Oh, no, we were going to be doomed, if only one of the Kings of Men _had thought_ it would be suitable for them to declare war to us. So, I did _nothing_. I did nothing that could attract Númenor’s attention, nothing that could make them think of our people as their enemy. I did it for my people, it’s obvious. I would have never let my people die. But I never raised my hand to help the Men of Middle-earth, or of Harad, when the descendants of Elros laid waste to their lands. I cannot deny it: their blood still stains my hands. But what could I _do_ , against the power of Númenor? 

Celebrìan closed her eyes, for a moment, taking a deep breath. She knew Gil-galad was right: she was there, in those troubled days. Elrond told her of how _grateful_ Gil-galad had been to the Valar when the eyes of the Golden King laid on the land of Mordor, instead of the Lindon and the other elven-realms. She couldn’t blame him for his decisions- he too wanted the best of his people, and a king had to take hard decisions- but she couldn’t say that he was without fault, either. 

-Gil-galad- she whispered, her voice low.- I … I feel so sorry for you. You made hard decisions, and I surely won’t lose my respect for you, because I know how difficult it was for you. You deserve all of the songs Elrond has written for you, you deserve all the love your people still feel for you. If you feared losing my respect because of this … well, I must admit that I was shocked when I heard you, before, but you made your mistakes, as I made mine. How could I blame you for being … fallible, after what I did? I can understand your pain. After all, you decided to remain here in the Gardens, exactly as I decided to sail the sea to come here.

-Aye. You’re very kind to me, cousin- he took her hand.- Irmo and Estë are kind to me, too, but I see myself as a failure, someone who doesn’t deserve the trust that his people once felt for him, for such a long time, that I ended up forgetting how important the word of a dear friend could be. I must thank you for this. I don’t think that you’re fallible, however. You have all the right to feel troubled, to need some help, after what happened to you. It’s understandable. 

-You’re very kind, too- Celebrìan smiled a little.- I too felt like a failure for such a long time … My family’s love for me never diminished, but sometimes I felt like I’ve disappointed them all. I wasn’t able to be a good wife, a good mother: I abandoned them all. I wasn’t strong enough to bear what … what happened to me. Aye, I didn’t die, but what was left of me? An empty shell, unable to feel any emotion that wasn’t pain or despair or grief.- she took a deep breath. - That’s why I felt, some time before coming here. Still, I cannot forgive myself for causing Elrond so much troubles. He always was so altruistic towards everyone, how could I break his heart so?

-I’m sure he understood- Gil-galad crossed his arms. -He always had a gentle heart. And you had all your reasons for feeling that way.

-Yes, I know- she feared she might cry once more.- And that was even worse. For all that he’s suffered, he still preserved a gentle and kind spirit. I couldn’t stay in Middle-earth, because nobody there could heal my soul, but I felt so … _selfish_ , even if he was understanding towards me, and he would have rather killed himself than see me suffer. I know also that he is going to hide his pain under his work of healer, under his duties as the Master of Imladris, under his being always so sweet and kind towards anyone, without anybody telling him that he deserves to take care of himself, after taking care of so many people … - her voice broke for a moment. She missed Elrond _so hard_. It took time, before she could get used to the idea of having her bed cold and empty, and she still looked for him every morning, in those moments when she indulged between sleep and wakefulness. She missed the sound of his silvery voice, the way he laughed at her jokes, all those little things that made him so dear to her heart. 

Gil-galad rested a hand on her shoulder:- Aye, I know how he can be. I saw it when he returned from Númenor, after Elros’ death- he shook his head.- He just pretended as if nothing happened, as if he didn’t feel his heart breaking for the death of his twin, and he tried to bury his feelings under his work and the study of medicine. It was so … difficult. But nobody could blame you for your decision: it was the only thing you could do. You’re one of the bravest people I know, for being capable of surviving everything you had to suffer. You’re not selfish, Celebrìan, or anything you said before: coming here to heal was the best decision. There’s always hope, cousin, and Elrond knows this well.

-It’s what my mother said, shortly before we parted- she finally felt a little heat in her chest, chasing away the tears. - That’s why I came here, however. For _hope_. For _estel_ , as our forefathers called it. But the road seems so long and so hard to me, and sometimes I ask myself if I’ve made the right choice. Sometimes I feel so … wrong.

-I understand this, too- Gil-galad’s shy smile returned.- There’re so many adversities, so many mistakes, so many things that make me fear I will never be able to forgive myself. Irmo once told me that self-forgiving is one of the key to healing. But how could I forgive myself? I was so arrogant and so proud once, and I always fear making the same mistakes. So … that’s why I remained here, as I cannot bear the gaze of my own family anymore.

-Irmo told me that different people took different times to heal- Celebrìan gently touched his arm, once again.- When he first spoke so to me, I said that I wanted to remain here for a short time. I was so impatient. But now … now I, too, can’t help but ask myself if I’m going to forgive myself - she took a deep breath.- I don’t know what I can do. I want to heal, sure, and I miss my family more than anything, and I cannot imagine my life without them, but sometimes it only seems a very distant dream, unreal as a mirage in a desert. Irmo and Estë know how to help me, sure, but I don’t know how to help _myself_. 

-I don’t know, either- Gil-galad’s smile was broader now, while his gaze met hers.- However, we are here for this.. Maybe, that’s why we met. I cannot help myself, and you cannot help yourself, but maybe we could help each other. As you said, the road will be long and difficult, but you’re not alone, Celebrìan, on this road.

-Maybe we can help each other heal- she couldn’t help but smile. - _There’s always hope_ , as my mother said. Yes, I understand now. You’re not alone, either, Gil-galad, on this road. Maybe you have felt that way for a long time, as I have felt, too, but that time is over. You won’t be alone _anymore_ , my friend.

**

The cries of the seagulls were loud as the day Celebrìan came in the Undying Land. The breeze gently moved her silvery hair, which she had let down on her back, as she watched the little white ship approaching Alqualondë’s harbour. Her heart beat so hard in her chest, when she recognized the banner that had been raised on the mast: a grey swan on a blue background, the banner of Cìrdan the Carpenter. 

But this time, there was her uncle Findaráto with her on the dock, gazing at the white ship almost as eagerly as her. Gil-galad wasn’t with her: he’d decided to remain in Tirion, claiming Elrond would need time, to get used to the idea that his old friend had returned from Mandos. Celebrìan had hoped he would come with her to Alqualondë, but she knew Gil-galad only wanted to let Elrond and her have some time they could spend together, and Celebrìan was so grateful to him for this.

When finally the ship approached the dock, Celebrìan had to stop herself from running towards it. _There will be time for this_ , she told herself.

She almost couldn’t identify the first person who set foot on the dock: he looked the same as Curunìr, the first time she had seen the Istari in Imladris, but when he turned, she recognized the eyes of Mithrandir. 

_This is surprising_ , Celebrìan told herself. Why did Mithrandir look like that? What happened to Curunìr? What happened in Middle-earth, while she slowly healed in the peace of Valinor? She had heard that Sauron’s Ring had finally been destroyed, and that Arda was now free from the Shadow of Morgoth’s lieutenant, but the news that had come across the sea were few and confused, and the Valar were still deliberating in the Máhanaxar.

Mithrandir smiled to her:- Lady Celebrìan- he said.- I’m glad to meet you, in these joyful lands.

-I’m glad to meet you too, Mithrandir- she replied, smiling in return. She noticed that Cìrdan’s mariners were helping two people disembark from the ship: people that Celebrìan had always believed that existed only in the books she once read in Imladris, who looked like Men, but were smaller and tinier, and wore no shoes. _Periannath_ , she thought. _But why are they here? What_ really _happened in Middle-earth?_

One looked so old and fragile, the other was younger, but pale as a ghost. When she met his gaze, she recognized the same pain that had once threatened to destroy her soul: the pain of a wound that would never heal. She felt her heart clench, and she hoped that she would have an occasion to talk with him, for to tell him that she understood him, that she understood the way he felt _so much_ , and that he wasn’t alone on that dark road … 

She was going to greet him, when she got distracted by the other people disembarking from the ship: one was obviously her mother, radiant as ever, her golden hair shining in the daylight, and the other … 

The other was _Elrond_.

Celebrìan thought she might cry, when she saw the face of her beloved. And when he lifted his eyes and his gray gaze met hers, she couldn’t help but nearly run towards him, to take him into her arms, because she _needed_ to touch him, to feel him under her hands, and _to know_ that he was not merely a dream, that he was _here_ with her.

- _Celebrìan_ \- Elrond’s voice was a mere whisper, when he took her hands, but it was sweeter than the singing of Lórien’s nightingales to Celebrìan’s ears.- Oh, my dear. I longed for you for such a long time…

She didn’t let him speak any further. She only stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his warm lips, those lips she had yearned so much to touch. She didn’t care about the fact that everybody else on the dock was watching them, about the fact that her mother was near her -she surely _would_ understand-, about anything else in the world. She only cared for the texture of Elrond’s lips against hers, for the way he held her body, for the way he was at first so tender and soft, then turned more and more passionate, exploring her mouth with his tongue. Celebrìan’s legs trembled for a moment.  
When they turned, Elrond took a deep breath and simply smiled. - I forget how … passionate you are, sweetheart.

-Maybe I could help you remember - she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. - I missed you, my dear. 

-I missed you, too- Elrond’s voice was soft, nothing more than a whisper, and he gently took her hands.- Those years were long without you. My beloved, you … are you well?

His graceful fingers gently traced her wrist, where a white, pale scar still marked her skin, shortly before he placed a soft kiss on it, touching her wounded body like it was the most precious jewel. 

Celebrìan nodded a little.- Yes, my dear, I am. I’m better, now.- she watched him. Now that they were so close, she could see that his bright eyes, which rested so full of joy on her, had dark circles under them, and that wrinkles of sorrow and tiredness marked his wide brow. What did he have to suffer in Middle-earth? -How are _you_ , my dear? 

-I … - he closed his eyes for a moment.- Those years were long without you. Sauron was defeated, aye, but the price was very high. 

-My dear … - she knew. She knew that their happiness would be shadowed by the fact that one of their children, at least, would never reach Aman’s shores: few were the news that came from Middle-earth, but Manwë’s eagles once spoke of how the fairest of the elven maidens who now lived in Endor, Elrond’s radiant daughter, had decided to follow the same fate of Lúthien, and fell into the darkness for the sake of a mortal’s love. She remembered how she had felt when she knew about her daughter, like someone had stabbed her with a cold blade: it hurt almost like her Orc-wounds. 

-They’re well.- Elrond’s voice trembled a little.- They’re happy, my dear, you’ve got my word. Elladan and Elrohir told that maybe they will come here, one day, because their hearts belong to the elven race- he shook his head. -But Arwen … 

Celebrìan closed her eyelids. She’d already known that she would never see her daughter’s beloved face again, that she would never speak to her again or braid her hair, as she did a long time ago in Middle-earth, but hearing this from Elrond’s lips, feeling his sorrow, and knowing that he was _here_ when Arwen had told him, that she would be forever lost to them, as Lúthien once was lost, to Thingol and Melian … 

-I know- Celebrìan heard her voice tremble, too, but she raised a hand to gently stroke his cheek. -I already know. Manwë’s eagles are still watchful of what happens in Middle-earth. I know that our daughter made the choice of Lúthien.- she closed her eyes, trying to stop the tears.- You’re not alone in your grief, my beloved. But please, tell me … is she happy? 

-Yes, she is- Elrond smiled a little.- Her husband loves her more than anything, and I’ve no doubt that she will be the most joyous queen that Gondor has ever seen in its whole history.  
-That’s all that matters- Celebrìan embraced him.- If Arwen is happy, I’m happy, too.- the sorrow was still too much to bear, and Celebrìan feared the moment when they would finally know that their beloved daughter, the joy of their life, was lost forever, but now she knew that was all what mattered. Arwen had made her choice, and she would have a happy life: Celebrìan didn’t want to think about her daughter as if she was already dead. Arwen would surely hate the idea of seeing them weep for her, she thought, especially in such a sunny moment, when they finally met after such a long time … 

Celebrìan sighed a little. Arwen would be all right, she thought. Her beloved daughter, always so precious and lovable, capable of seeing joy even in the darkest hours … 

-Are you well, my daughter?- a familiar voice broke the flow of her mind for a moment. Celebrìan raised her head, and she saw her mother looking at her. Galadriel’s gaze was full of tenderness, and understanding, and Celebrìan couldn’t help but leave Elrond’s side for a moment, and embrace her, too. 

-I’m better now, _ammë_.- Celebrìan watched her. She knew that her mother was worried for her.

-I see- Galadriel smiled, and for a moment, she seemed younger, like she had looked back in the First Age, when she was a maiden full of fire and pride. - I’m so glad you’re better, now. My dear … Your father would be so proud of you.- Galadriel sighed a little.- He’s not here … not yet, at least. But he promised me that he will come here, one day. He’s never seen the Undying Lands, so he’s not yet ready to come to this place, but he wanted you to know how much he loves you.

-And I love him, too- Celebrìan smiled. She also wanted to tell her mother how proud she was of her, of how she freed herself from the Valar’s Ban, how she had passed the trial of her doom and how she had been able to resist the temptation of Sauron’s ring, but Celebrìan had the feeling that Galadriel already knew about it, for she was always so capable with the _ósanwë_.

Galadriel nodded, her smile opened again, and Celebrìan was certain that she _knew_.- And I’m so proud of you, too. You’re so brave, despite your sorrow, and you deserve only to find some happiness here. 

-Thank you- Celebrìan knew that she wasn’t still _completely_ healed, and maybe she would never be, but she was able to find happiness in her life, once again, and that was the only thing that mattered.- Now that Elrond is with me, we will hope so … we will hope to rebuild our life together, and find some joy, every day, little by little. Maybe we will also have sorrows and troubles, but we’re not alone, now.

Galadriel nodded a little, and embraced her once more. When they finished, Celebrìan noticed that Elrond’s gaze rested on Finrod, looking at him with disbelief. 

-Elrond- she started to speak, but Galadriel moved towards him.- My dear son-in-law- she said, her voice clear and deep, and Finrod turned towards them.- Shall I introduce you to my elder brother, Ingoldo Findaráto, or as the people of Middle-earth called him, Finrod Felagund, Friend of Dwarves and Men?  
Celebrìan observed how Elrond’s gaze jumped from Finrod to Galadriel’s tall figure, surely noticing _how_ similar they were, both with the same golden hair, the same strong chin and delicate nose, the only difference between them was the colour of their eyes: Galadriel’s blue as the deep sea, Finrod’s grey as twilight’s shadows. 

-It’s an honour to meet my niece’s husband, and the heir of Finwë and Elwë’s Houses- Finrod’s voice was low, full of rich tones.-You look very much like your foremother, the fair Lúthien. I once saw her, when I came to my uncle’s Halls as an ambassador, and you’ve got the same eyes, and the same face as her.

-A lot of people me have told so- said Elrond, politely. - Even if, sadly, I’ve see her only in paintings and tapestries, because I’ve never known her. I belongs to Lúthien’s kin, aye, but I was raised by Maglor and his brother Maedhros, and I still think of myself as a Noldo, for their sake.

-I can understand- Finrod bent his head a little.- They were among my closest friends, once. 

-I know- Elrond took a deep breath.- I will be glad to speak with you of this, if I can.

Finrod nodded a little without saying anything. Celebrìan knew that Elrond would be glad to share those memories with someone: few people in Middle-earth still remembered Maglor and Maedhros, except for the ancient songs and poems. For a moment, her thoughts run to Nerdanel, who she knew still lived in Tirion, and to Celebrimbor, who was with her since the very moment he got out of the Gardens of Lórien. 

She wondered if one day he would met them, together with the parents he never knew. Maybe, she thought, one day he would be reunited with both his families, the one that sired him and the one that raised him. She couldn’t help but smile, at that thought.

There would be time for that. They had all the time in the world, now …

-Aye, my dear- she whispered in his ear.-There are a lot of people who wish to speak with you, my dearest one. I will introduce them to you, if you want.

-There are few things I desire more than this- Elrond’s smiled deepened, when his gaze turned on her.- Except maybe spending some time … _alone_ … with you. - he let her giggle a little before continuing.- But yes, I will gladly talk with everyone you will introduce to me.

-Oh, you will see- Celebrìan thought for a moment of Gil-galad waiting for them in Tirion, she hoped their reunion would be joyful. She had seen that Elrond, too, needed some time to rest and to heal from the wounds of his spirit, but they would help him as they helped each other, once -- and Celebrìan knew that Elrond’s mere presence would change everything, for them. 

-I will see- his smile was so bright that Celebrìan couldn’t help but think of Finrod’s words, about how alike Elrond looked to Lúthien his foremother, so beautiful and radiant, despite the wrinkles of pain on his face. But Celebrìan didn’t care for them, just like he didn’t care for the pale scars that still marked her skin. -And I’m sure you will be eager to speak with the Ring-bearers that came with us. - Elrond made a gesture with his head towards the two _periain_ , who were talking with Finrod now. -I’ve got so much to tell you, my dear, so much …

-I know- she embraced him once again, resting her head on his chest.- And you will. We have time, now, my beloved, all the time in the world, until the very end of Arda …

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The idea of Finrod suffering for the reincarnation when he returned from Mandos' Halls is not mine, but it came from an Italian fanfiction that I read years ago, that you could find also here on AO3, under the title ' _Vicino a casa_ , by Amaereth. Instead, the idea of Gil-galad remaining for long time in Mandos' Halls came from some speculation of mine about the canon, because Tolkien specifically told us that even the Three Rings must be destroyed for precaution. About Numenor, we know that they were the greatest allies of Gil-galad, until they began to despise the Elves and the Valar: it always seemed strange to me that they totally forgot about him, especially when they'd no problem to declare war to, basically, _everyone else_? Gil-galad was an able politician, he surely had took his own precautions. Obviously nobody could say that it was _easy_ ...  
>  2\. I've a lot of headcanons about the whole 'Celebrìan in Valinor' thing, even if I wrote very few about it. This fanfic is an attempt of writing a part of them. I hope you enjoy!


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